Death Be Not Unkind
by Ms-Figg
Summary: Songfic written to: You Crucify My Heart by Private Video link included. It's HILARIOUS! Snape sings in tenor. lololololol. Angst, Death, MF
1. Prologue

* * *

_Written for the Song: You Crucify My Heart by Private _

Watch the youtube video here: WARNING: Hysterics level HIGH. Lol. 

_theburningpen . com It's on the front page. _

Special Props to: nanoq, who sent me this link saying it reminded her of Severus and me. Thanks nanoq. 

* * *

**  
Death Be Not Unkind Songfic**

Potions master Severus Snape finished removing his clothing, his heart racing as he approached the bed, and the sultry young witch lying nude on her side, her bushy brown hair falling over her shoulders, her skin kissed by the flickering shadows of torchlight. It had been so long since he had touched Hermione Granger.

Snape climbed into the bed only to find one small hand pressed against his chest.

"Tell me why I should let an old man like you touch me," she hissed at him, dark pleasure in her eyes as she looked at his sallow face.

"Because . . . I need you," he said softly, trying to move forward.

Hermione shifted away.

"Need me?" she said mockingly. "If need is all it is, get a whore, Severus. Need isn't enough. I'm leaving."

Hermione pushed the naked Potions master away and slid out of the bed.

"No. No, Hermione don't leave," the wizard said, desperation in his voice as he clutched her hand, keeping her from reaching her robes.

Hermione gave him a cold smile.

"I like it when you beg me. The great Severus Snape brought to his knees by a Gryffindor. Tell me, why should I stay?" she asked him, her brown eyes glittering.

"Because . . . because I love you," he confessed, his heart twisting in his chest at the look of disdain she gave him.

Hermione studied the pale wizard, then laughed, but slowly climbed back into the bed.

"You love me . . . but I don't love you. You're entertainment, Professor. That's all you are. Pathetic entertainment. You don't deserve me," she said to him, her voice dripping acid as she lay down on her back.

"But I'll let you have me one more time because I feel sorry for you. Come on," Hermione said, opening her arms.

Severus Snape quickly climbed into the bed before the volatile little witch changed her mind. He was always so desperate for her, always willing to do whatever she wished to have access to her. As he mounted her soft body and kissed those sneering little lips, he couldn't remember how he came to this obsession, this madness, this emasculating situation.

Every instinct inside the dark wizard said to leave the Gryffindor alone. She was destroying him bit by bit, forcing him to confess his love, twisting his heart as if she reached right through his pale chest and clutched it in her fist, turning and crushing it until he burned with despair even as he possessed her.

And that burning intensified every time she left him.

* * *

She had done it. She really had done it, without saying anything to him. He received the invitation to the wedding by owl like every other Hogwarts staff member. A simple, printed card with two Gryffindor lions facing each other, male and female. 

_**You are cordially invited to attend the Wedding Ceremony of**_

_**Ronald Bilius Weasley**_

_**and**_

_**Hermione Jean Granger**_

_**at the home of . . .**_

Snape let the invite drop from his pale hand. Hermione was marrying Ronald Weasley. She would be beyond him now, the only woman he ever loved and was able to consummate that love with. It was as if what little sun that shone down on the wizard suddenly went out, and his world was immersed in darkness and deep despair.

He attended the ceremony, pale and sober as he watched the happy couple kiss, turn and be announced as Mr. & Mrs. Weasley. He saw Hermione's narrowed eyes shift his way, a nasty smile on her lips as she walked past him, arm and arm with Ronald Weasley and out of his life forever.

Snape sat there long after the other guests had departed, covered in the darkness he knew would never lift now. Finally the wizard rose and began walking up the tree lined avenue that led to the mansion where the nuptials were held.

When he was some distance away from the mansion, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black bottle. This was his last loss, the last pain he would suffer. He didn't want to live with this. It was time to end the horror that was his life once and for all.

Snape uncapped the bottle and drank the poison down, tossing the empty container away and continued walking. The atmosphere around him became darker and he heard laughter behind him. He turned to see Narcissa Malfoy in a large black hat, the brim worn low and partially covering her face.

"That's what you get for falling in love with a Mudblood," Narcissa laughed, following him as he turned and strode away.

"Leave me to my misery," Snape hissed, walking ahead, Narcissa still flanking him.

"Misery? You mean foolishness. Loving a Mudblood. That's too low even for you, Severus," a familiar voice purred.

Snape looked over his left shoulder and saw Tom Riddle in his human form wearing a suit, tall, pale and sneering at him.

"Go back to your grave, Tom," Snape hissed, "You'll have all eternity to taunt me."

The two people continued to follow the wizard up the road. Snape was finding it difficult to breathe, his heart burning in his chest, his steps slowing.

"You've crucified my heart, Hermione Granger," he said softly as the world began to darken.

Suddenly a black woman with wild, untamed hair and wearing a white coat of some sort walked up to him. She held it tightly clasped around her body. Snape stared at her.

"Who are you?" he managed to get out. It was so hard to speak.

"I'm Sister Death, from the White," she answered him with a smile. "I come to collect the souls of those destined for hell but have died for Love. That's why my coat is white. Severus Snape, you've received a reprieve of sorts. You're a suicide, but you won't go to hell because it was true love that killed you. Sort of."

Snape's eyes narrowed as both Narcissa and Tom broke out in unearthly laughter.

"Shall we break out the violins, Tom?" Narcissa chuckled.

"Oh yes, Narcissa," Tom agreed.

Violins appeared in their hands and they began to play them.

Ignoring his irritating companions, Snape's looked at the spirit. Something was very wrong here.  
.  
"What do you mean, sort of?" Snape hissed at Sister Death, who gave him a sad little smile.

"It seems your little Lolita slipped you something called the 'Amortentia Potion.' She did something to it before giving it to you so you couldn't break away from her. It appears she never forgave you for killing someone called Albus. She thought you could have saved him."

"Why . . . that little bitch!" Snape wheezed before dropping to the ground, dead.

Sister Death, Narcissa and Tom gathered around him, watching as a pale, translucent double of the Potions master rose from the corpse, the look on its face terrible.

The ghost looked at Sister Death.

"You can keep Heaven," Snape purred, his eyes turning red as flame. "I have a treacherous little witch to punish."

Pale robes billowing, Snape glided away.

The End

* * *

A/N: Still had to let the Potions master get the last word. Isn't that video hilarious!!! Of course, the black lady is me (in my mind anyway). Thanks for reading.


	2. Sybil Speaks

**Chapter 2 Sybil Speaks  
**  
Sister Death shook her head as she watched Snape glide away.

"Oh, that girlie done did it now," she said, "She sure shouldn't have done that."

"Your language is atrocious," Tom said, looking at Sister Death disdainfully. "It's clear to see you are an under-educated American. Probably a Muggle as well."

Sister Death swung her head around and looked at Tom with narrowed brown eyes.

"Oh no you, didn't. No you didn't say I was under-educated just because you don't like my lingo, snake-boy!" she said, rolling her head on her neck and snapping her fingers. "Just because I don't hold my nose in the air as if I smell something funky . . . "

Here she looked at Narcissa pointedly. The Pureblood gave her a "well I never." Look.

"And don't speak proper English with that snooty little fake-sounding accent you have, and just because I can walk without looking like I have a stick up my ass . . . you know what? Both of you get the fuck out of here. You got no business here anyway. You're just ghosts."

Both Tom and Narcissa stared at her.

"You can't make us go anyplace. We can stay where we wish," Narcissa said loftily.

Sister Death put her hands on her hips.

"Oh really? You two don't know who you're messing with. A Muggle eh? Could a Muggle do this?" Sister Death snarled, snapping her fingers.

Immediately, both Tom and Narcissa screamed in agony, and began blowing away as if made of grains of sand, starting from their feet. In a few seconds they were gone.

"Snooty bitches," Sister Death said, brushing off her hands. "You don't mess with Sister Death. Especially when you're just ghosts. Ghosts ain't nothing."

Then she looked in the direction Snape disappeared in.

"Shit," Sister said, shaking her head again. "But that one, with all that hate he's got inside . . . he's going to be more than ghost . . . and more than trouble. I better catch up to him, see if I can talk him out of this path. Because if I don't, that witch is in for some real bad karma. Real bad."

With that, Sister Death suddenly began to whirl like a dervish and disappeared. **

* * *

**

FOR STREAMING AUDIO CLICK HERE:  
www . theburningpen . com SLASH aaw . m3u  
No spaces and a slash where SLASH occurs

* * *

Inside the mansion, the reception was going on. The wedding was held there because it was the official home of the current Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Both Hermione and Ron were considered heroes, so it was fitting their wedding should be held in such a lavish setting.

It was quite the reception, with plenty of food, drink and entertainment. Clowns, Mimes and others moved through the crowd, and Sybil Trelawney was even in on the act, doing readings in a booth for the guests.

Hermione, still in her white wedding dress and veil was reluctantly led over to the Divination teacher's booth.

"Trelawney's a big fraud," Hermione said as a smiling Ron led her over.

"Aw come on Hermione, it's all in fun. Besides, I want to see what the future holds for my blushing bride," he said, squeezing her affectionately.

"Fine Ron," Hermione said as the couple currently occupying the booth exited. Hermine and Ron entered and sat down. Sybil was in all her scarved, bangled glory, her dragonfly-like eyes wide behind her thick glasses as she looked at the newlyweds. Before her on a table covered in a royal blue silk tablecloth sat a crystal ball. In her best spooky seer voice, she intoned: "Ah, the happily married couple have come to see what the Fates have in store for them."

"Something like that," Hermione snorted.

Ron grinned.

Others gathered around the booth, interested in hearing what Sybil had to say about the couple's future.

Importantly, Sybil cleared her throat, then made a big production of passing her hands over and around the crystal ball, her many-colored trailing scarves floating and drifting. Suddenly a rather cold wind from nowhere washed over the group, Hermione clutching herself as she shivered and looked around for the source of the freezing blast. Unable to find the source, she turned back to Sybil, who was now sitting stiffly, staring straight ahead . . . silent and unblinking.

"Sybil?" Hermione said to her.

This wasn't part of the witch's normal theatrics.

"What's wrong with her?" Ron asked in a low voice as the guests stared at the apparently stricken witch.

Then Trelawney spoke, her voice distant and ringing with power. The entire reception quieted as she prophesized, her bug eyes resting on Hermione now, her hand rising and one long finger pointing at the witch accusingly.

**Witch untrue and witch unkind  
the hated to your soul you bind.  
To treachery you were inclined  
and stole his soul and warped his mind.**

Cunning with the liquid tool  
you played a game, one far too cruel  
ensnared his heart so you could rule  
and turned the True into a fool.

But the dead you cannot rule,  
cannot train and cannot school;  
but the dead you can't control,  
especially He of warring soul.

Enjoy this day of wedded bliss  
for soon there comes another kiss  
of pale regard and icy breath;  
of anger, pain and vengeful Death!

The witch stopped speaking and it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop as the guests all stared from the witch to Hermione. Then low voices rose, murmuring how horrible Trelawney's pronouncement had been.

"What kind of bloody prophecy was that!" Ron roared at Trelawney, who blinked and looked around at everyone a bit perplexed.

"What?" she said to Ron, confused.

"You're scaring Hermione to death!" he yelled at the witch, "How can you talk about vengeful Death on our wedding day, you old fraud!"

Suddenly someone parted the crowd, a wizard in a suit his eyes wide.

"They've just found Severus Snape on the road! He's dead! Looks like suicide," the wizard cried.

Cries of "what" "oh no" and "why?" rose up from the guests as they all headed for the mansion entrance to see what was going on.

"Snape's dead? Oh no," Ron said rising.

Hermione just sat there.

"Are you coming? Let's go see what this is about, Hermione," Ron said to his bride, who shook her head.

"No Ron. You go on. I don't want to see," she said quietly as Sybil also rose and slid past her, heading for the exit, following the crowd.

"All right. I'll let you know what's going on," Ron said as he hurried away.

Hermione sat there, a small satisfied smirk forming.

"At last you got what you deserved, you murderer," she hissed under her breath. "You should have died in the Shrieking Shack. I'm glad you're dead."

Standing several feet away from the witch, still invisible, Snape stared at her, hot hatred in his fiery eyes.

"You're glad now bitch," he hissed. "Just wait until I get my bearings. You may be glad I'm dead, but I promise you, you slut . . . that you're going to wish you had never been born."

Around Snape, forces whirled, dark, hungry, ancient forces drawn by the power of the dark wizard's hatred. They were stronger than Life.

Sister Death appeared, her eyes wide as she watched the darkness whirl around the wizard, gathering strength, feeding on his anger, despair and hatred.

"Oh man," she breathed. "I'm too late. It's already started. Damn Tonks and her sabbaticals. I told her I didn't want to deal with these English magical folks. They're damned crazy. The whole bunch of them. This is her shit, not mine."

"Oh, it'll be fine, Dee" the Metamorphmagus had told her. "I just want to pay Remus a visit. You know it's two years today I was killed. So that gives me my week. Come on, fill in for me. Nothing ever happens. Suicide is down."

So Sister Death or "Sister Dee" as she was called by the other White Reapers agreed to cover Tonks while she visited heaven to get her boots knocked by her werewolf husband.

Now she had a burgeoning Incubus on her hands.

* * *

A/N: I couldn't resist writing this. It came to me in the car as I rode with Terrill Jr. and Sr. to go get some Chinese food for Chi, who's at work. But that's it for now. Back to Yuleride. Next steamy chapter of that will be up tomorrow morning Well, it's finally happened. I've written myself into a story. :::shakes head::: It was that damn video. : Thanks for reading.


	3. More Lies Revealed

**Chapter 3 More Lies Revealed  
**  
"I can't believe Snape killed himself," Ron said to Hermione as he sat on the side of the bed, loosening his tie. "After all he went through to survive, he does this. It doesn't make any sense."

Hermione was busily removing her wedding dress, not responding to the wizard.

"I mean, why? Why would he do something like that?" Ron said, looking up at Hermione expectantly.

Hermione looked at Ron rather coldly.

"He did it because he was a coward, Ron. Only cowards kill themselves. The rest of us deal with the harsh realities of life," she said to him evenly.

Ron looked at Hermione with round eyes.

"What do you mean he was a coward, Hermione? How can you say that? Snape wasn't a coward, he was our friend!" the red-head said, astounded Hermione could say something like that.

Hermione looked at Ron incredulously.

"Friend? Severus Snape a friend? He was no one's friend, Ron. He didn't like anyone. He was a bitter man, incapable of the slightest human feelings," she spat.

Ron blinked at his bride, disturbed that the normally considerate witch was speaking so cruelly of the dead.

"Hermione, even though Snape didn't actually like me, I appreciate all he went through and if he ever needed me, I would have bent over backwards to help him. So would Harry, so would a lot of people," Ron said to his wife. "He was a hero and no matter how rotten he acted to us, he deserved respect and consideration. I can't believe you're saying this stuff about him. Don't you care that he's dead?"

Hermione looked at Ron's narrowed eyes and realized that she had better backpedal and do it quick. It wouldn't do for him to know how much she hated the wizard. She turned on the waterworks, her eyes glistening.

"Of course I care, Ron. It's just that I'm angry at him for doing it . . . and I'm being selfish. We were married today and this is our honeymoon and it's like it's all been ruined," Hermione said, bursting into tears, covering her face with her hands.

Snape stood snarling in a corner of the room, his face screwed up with hatred. He didn't even register what Ron had said about him, his anger was so great. One thing Snape hated was being called a coward, dead or not. And he wouldn't be dead at all if not for Hermione's betrayal.

"Um, um, um" a husky female voice sounded next to the wizard. Startled Snape looked over to see Sister Death leaning on the wall next to him, holding her white trench coat tightly around her ample curves, studying Hermione.

"That witch sure knows how to pour it on, doesn't she?" she said as Ron walked over to Hermione and embraced her tenderly.

"Yes. She's quite the actor," Snape growled, his eyes flashing.

Dee looked at the wizard who had lost his ghostly color. He looked normal. This wasn't a good sign at all. It meant his spiritual makeup was changing and quickly.

"You know Snape, if you don't come with me, you're going to be stuck here," she said to the pale wizard.

"I'm not going anywhere until that little bitch is punished for her treachery," Snape snarled.

"She'll get hers at the end of her life," Dee said, trying to reason with the wizard.

"Which will be soon if I have anything to do with it," the wizard hissed, his eyes narrowed as Ron comforted and kissed Hermione, who was sniffling against him.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. This is our wedding day and we're on our honeymoon. No more talk about Snape. It's all about us now," the wizard said softly. "I've waited forever for tonight."

Snape's eyes widened.

"He can't think she's a virgin. I took her virginity myself a year ago," Snape said in an incredulous voice.

Dee studied Hermione for a moment, her eyes unfocused. Then she let out a sigh and shook her head. She had looked into Hermione's past.

"Sorry Snapey. You were duped. Some guy named Krum popped that cherry a few years back when she visited Bulgaria one summer," the spirit informed him.

"What? She couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen!" Snape exclaimed. "Besides, I saw the blood on my cock and the sheets! She screamed when I entered her! She was my first virgin. My only virgin."

"It's obvious you don't know jack about virgins then," Dee responded, watching as Hermione and Ron undressed and got into the bed. Ron immediately rolled on top of the witch.

"You've got to look, or feel or something," Dee added.

Snape made a noise, something full of anger and despair. Dee could feel more dark forces gathering around the wizard, who was staring at Hermione with even more hatred than before. Dee patted him on his shoulder sympathetically. Snape flinched away and Dee scowled at him for a moment. He didn't want comfort.

He wanted revenge.

"Don't feel so bad about not knowing about Krum," Dee said in an attempt to offer comfort anyway. "Hell, he doesn't know either. She o . . .Oblivated . . . no . . .Obliviated him as soon as they got dressed, so he wouldn't tell anyone what they did. Damn, you magical people have some strange words."

"Ron, be gentle," Hermione breathed up at her husband, her eyes wide and frightened.

"I will be, Hermione. I love you," Ron said tenderly, kissing the witch.

"Oh, this is unconscionable! She isn't a virgin you dolt!" Snape yelled at Ron as he kissed and caressed Hermione, preparing her. "She's a whore! She can suck the foreskin off a wizard from thirty paces away!"

Dee covered her mouth with her hand in an effort not to laugh.

"He can't hear you, you know," Dee said as the sheets came off the couple's undulating bodies.

"Damn, he's pale. What's wrong with you Brits? Don't any of you get any sun?" Dee asked Snape, who ignored her, watching the scene before him furiously. Hermione had fooled him in so many ways. Taking her virginity had really meant something to the wizard, and now . . . now that was a lie as well.

"And he's got freckles on his ass!" Dee exclaimed as Ron shifted preparing to enter Hermione. "Now, that's not attractive AT all."

Snape moved closer to the bed, his fiery eyes on Hermione's left hand. She was holding something small between her fingers.

"What is that?" he hissed.

Dee walked over and took a closer look, then shook her head.

"She's a Muggle-born witch, isn't she?" the specter asked the Potions master.

"Yesssss," Snape hissed as Ron adjusted himself, placing his erection against Hermione's apex.

"Well that explains it," Sister Death said.

"Explains what?" Snape asked as Ron thrust forward and Hermione let out a piercing shriek, her hand slipping between their bodies and touching Ron's loins and herself as Ron groaned with pleasure, his eyes tightly closed.

Her fingertips came away red and she tossed something into the corner of the room.

"It's a blood capsule. They use stuff like that to make movies," Dee said. "Got to admit, the witch is good."

Ron kissed Hermione again then raised himself up on his hands, pulling out of the witch slightly, looking between their bodies and seeing the telltale red streaks of true innocence on his shaft. He looked at Hermione, his eyes full of love.

"I'm your first, and now you're mine. Only mine, forever Hermione," he breathed, falling back to the witch and tenderly claiming her.

"Oh, I can't look at this shit anymore," Snape snarled, billowing away. "I'll come back when this fiasco is over."

He stormed through a wall, disappearing. Dee let him go. The spirit had a lot to think about.

Dee looked back at the copulating couple, Hermione crying out passionately as Ron made love to her.

"Girlfriend, you're good, I tell you that. But if I can't talk Snape out of haunting you, your life isn't going to be worth a . . ."

Dee had to think a moment.

"A plugged galleon," she finished.

Then the Reaper whirled, disappearing. She had to report what was going on with Snape to the higher-ups. There would be nothing they could do really. Even ghosts still had free will. If Snape chose to remain earthbound for all Eternity, then it was his right.

Even if he were turning into some kind of demon.

* * *

A/N: Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. You bad, bad little witch. You make a good villainess though. Everybody gets a bit. Lolol. I won't be updating this story for a while because I've got to get back to Twice Bitten and Alternate Universe. Thanks for reading, ya'll.


	4. When the Student is Ready, the Teacher A

**Chapter 4 When the Student is Ready, the Teacher Will Appear**

Snape stormed out of the wall and found himself in a wooded area. So Hermione had a secluded cottage to honeymoon in. He'd like to make it her coffin.

In a foul mood he walked over to a fallen log. Forgetting he was insubstantial he tried to sit down and passed through it, cursing. He didn't fall completely through the ground however. It seemed he had some spatial balance.

"That bitch. I can't believe how I let her take advantage of me that way," he seethed, pacing back and forth angrily. He tried to kick a stone but his foot passed right through it.

He groaned. How was he ever going to get back at Hermione if he couldn't interact with the real world?

"A newbie eh?" a voice sounded behind him.

Snape whirled, scowling to see a blonde-haired man apparently leaning against a tree, looking at him with a crooked smile. His eyes were strangely colored. Violet it appeared.

"Go away," Snape hissed.

"Oh, you don't want me to do that, my friend," the stranger said, walking toward Snape slowly, kicking the stone the Potions master had tried to dislodge only moments earlier. It flew out of sight.

Snape looked in the direction of the stone, then back at the stranger, his eyes narrowed. He was dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt along with white trainers. His blonde hair was rather curly but closely cropped. He looked quite solid.

"Are you human?" Snape asked him.

He smiled.

"I was . . . once, but not now. Now, I'm like you . . . or what you will become. My name is Marcus, Marcus Delaluci," he said, offering Snape his hand.

Snape eyed it.

"I can't shake your hand. You're solid," the wizard said in a low voice.

Marcus arched an eyebrow at him.

"Try," he said, stretching his hand out further.

Snape scowled but reached out and clasped the stranger's hand. It was firm and warm. The Potions master released it quickly.

"How is it you were able to kick the stone?" Snape asked him.

Marcus chuckled.

"I do more than kick stones, believe me. Now what's your name, newbie?" Marcus asked him.

"Snape," Snape replied.

"Yeah. You look like a Snape," Marcus said, eyeing his lank hair and sallow features. "You'll terrify them without changing form."

"What? Terrify who?" Snape demanded.

"Women, of course," Marcus replied, "you died because of one didn't you?"

"Yes. A very sneaky little bitch, I might add," the wizard snarled.

"They all are," Marcus agreed, "but because of the hatred you have, Snape . . . you can be more than a moaning, insubstantial ghost . . ."

Suddenly, Marcus punched the trunk of a tree, his fist crashing into the wood, and leaving a gaping hole. Snape blinked at the hole and the power Marcus exhibited.

"What are you?" he asked in a low voice.

"I am what you're becoming, Snape. An Incubus. I target the fairer sex . . . the living fairer sex," he replied with a smirk. "And I've decided to show you the ropes."

"An Incubus? A sex demon?" Snape repeated, stunned.

"I prefer the term "Retributive Entity," Marcus said with a nasty smile. "I'm the way I am because I was wronged by a woman and it caused my death. She was cheating on her husband with me, and I was sleeping with another witch besides her. I mean, I wasn't married. But she loved me. I told her not to, but you know women never listen. So, she arranged it so her husband would find us together, knowing the bastard would kill me immediately. And so, it went as planned. He pulled her out of the bed and Avada Kedavra'd me, then burnt my body to ash. I didn't even have a decent burial. The fucker dumped me in a trash bin. Of course, he didn't do anything to her other than make her promise not to cheat on him again."

The Incubus' face contorted and suddenly, he looked quite terrible for a moment before his face returned to normal. He looked at Snape.

"I wasn't in love myself, but I died for Love just the same, and I was pissed about it. My anger and hatred brought Dark Powers to me, powers that long for connection with the physical world. Using my emotions, they bound themselves to me, lending me their strength and the power to interact with the physical world. First I started out with small manifestations, Elizabeth feeling an icy presence. Then I began to write on wet windows and mirrors. The word "BITCH" mostly. Then I was able to move small objects, breaking them. Then, oh man it got good. I was able to possess her husband for short periods of time. Not enough to make him kill her, but to fuck the shit out of her . . . and not in a way she enjoyed. Then . . ."

Marcus' face took on a dark cast.

"Then I was able to manifest. First invisibly . . . I raped her. She believed I was a Disillusioned human until she heard my voice. She screamed as if she were dying. It felt wonderful. Even more wonderful when she ran to the Ministry and said she'd been raped by the ghost of her lover, who her husband killed and burned to ash. He was locked up in Azkaban for the murder and she was sent to St. Mungo's for treatment. Of course, I followed her, constantly raping and abusing her night after night until she was declared insane, and doing damage to herself. They strapped her down each night, and each night I came to her, doing terrible things, Snape, terrible things. The healers couldn't understand it but believed she was still managing to harm herself."

Snape listened, fascinated. Oh, if only he could do something similar to Hermione.

"Then the coup de grace came and I was able to manifest fully, so she could see me or the new me. In Incubus form, I cut quite the terrifying image, and I took her one final time. When the medi-witches came to bathe her the next morning, she broke free of them and flung herself out of the window, falling to her death on the spiked fence below. And then . . . she went to Hell where she belonged, both for her part in my murder and her own suicide. I felt such vindication. Until that moment, I had no peace, nothing but my churning hatred."

"Now I spend my time wandering the earth, watching the Living, seeking treacherous women and punishing them. It's a very enjoyable afterlife. I particularly like possessing their lovers. But it took a while to develop my abilities. Unlike you, I didn't have a mentor," Marcus said to Snape. "I'm between victims now and would like to pass the time in some enjoyable way. Training you up would suit me just fine."

"You won't be training anybody up, Marcus Delaluci. Now you get your randy ass away from him!" Sister Dee snarled, storming up and getting between Snape and Marcus.

Marcus' eyes drifted over the black Reaper with a smile.

"Sister Dee, it's good to see you. Tell me, is your week coming up anytime soon? If it is, allow me to offer my 'services,' he purred.

"Forget it, Marcus. You and that telescoping cock of yours get enough action. Bad action at that," she said to him, her face frowned up.

"There's no such thing as 'enough action' for me, Dee. You know what my purpose is," Marcus said to her, still grinning.

"Yeah, and it's ruining women, not new spirits," she snapped at him. "Come on, Snape. I want to talk to you."

"No," Snape said, his reddish eyes resting on Marcus. "Mr. Delaluci has offered to mentor me. I believe I will take him up on it."

Dee scowled at him, holding her coat close.

"You don't want to do that Snape. It will take what little soul you have left. You'll become a slave to the Purpose. All eternity will be spent attacking women," she said, a plea in her voice.

"I'm used to being a slave to purpose, believe me," Snape replied. "I still have freedom of choice and I choose Marcus. Now leave me be!"

Dee shook her head.

"You're a miserable spirit. I bet you were just as miserable as a man. You need to let the universe take care of that witch, Snape. She'll get what she deserves. You might upset the balance otherwise."

"I don't fucking care what I upset!" Snape snarled, turning on the Reaper, power swirling around him as his hatred for Hermione flared. "I want to pay that bitch back, and I WILL!"

The ground actually shuddered at his declaration. Marcus looked impressed as a number of dislodged leaves swirled to the ground.

"Lots of hate here," he said admiringly. "All right Snape, let's go. Demonology 101."

Marcus grabbed Snape's hand, then looked at Dee.

"See you later, my sister," he said to the furious Reaper.

"I ain't no sister of yours, Marcus Delaluci," she growled at him.

"I know. Otherwise when we do get together, it would be incest . . . and I've got enough sins on my plate. Catch you later."

Marcus and Snape disappeared. Dee shook her head.

Now an initially fucked up situation had just become infinitely worse.

Damn that Marcus Delaluci.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. 


	5. In the Presence of a Master

**Chapter 5 In the Presence of a Master**

Snape and Marcus reappeared near a small lake. The shoreline was rather sandy, with small stones scattered about. The sky was overcast, and the water a bit murky. Further back from the lake was a forest. Marcus released Snape and walked up to the lake, staring down into the water intensely. Snape followed, stopped by his side and looked down as well. He could see Marcus, but he couldn't see himself. The water was smooth and without ripples.

Marcus looked over at the silent wizard.

"When you can see yourself in the water, Snape, you'll be ready . . . fully ready to wreak your revenge on that little bitch. But that might take a little while," he said to the wizard. "You're going to have to start at the beginning."

"I knew that," Snape replied, frowning at him. "And what, pray tell, is the beginning?"

"Well, it's all based on solidification. Becoming dense enough to interact with the physical world. You exist, but on a higher level, at a higher vibration. The earth's physical laws don't affect us unless we become physical beings. So, we can fly, pass through physical objects, don't need air, etc. What you're going to have to do first is focus on affecting the physical world. This is done by concentration."

In example, Marcus passed his hand over the smooth water, causing it to ripple.

"This is where you begin. Focus on making the water move. Water serves as a kind of bridge between the physical and the spiritual planes, which is why it is used so much in magic.

Snape frowned slightly.

"Other kinds of magic," Marcus explained. "Natural magic. The kind Muggles do. Wiccans and such."

Ah. Yes. There were Muggles who used the forces of nature to do what they couldn't. Some were surprisingly good at it. But their wand work was rarely instantaneous. Still, they tried.

Snape stared down at the water. This was very similar to doing wandless magic, which, he wasn't able to do on earth.

"Go on, stretch your hand over the water. Imagine your hand becoming cold, becoming ice and the water moving away from it," Marcus instructed. "It won't really become cold, but it should become denser. Imagining it like ice helps to focus."

Snape focused on his hand as he held it over the water. After ten minutes, nothing.

"Blast," the wizard hissed, dropping it. "Nothing happened."

Marcus arched an eyebrow at him.

"It's not going to happen overnight, Snape. You just have to keep practicing. Think about how much you want to get back at the witch who drove you to suicide. That ought to add a bit of impetus. Imagine your hands curled around her throat, squeezing slowly, her eyes bulging, her face turning red, then blue as you slowly cut off her air supply . . ."

Snape did picture this, his face contorting as he imagined slowly throttling the life out of Hermione, who fruitlessly tried to grab at his hands but was unable to connect with them, horror in her protuberant eyes as she gazed on his hate-filled face, the light in them . . . fading . . . fading . . .

"Arrrrgh!" the wizard cried, thrusting out his hand and making a rather large wave flow over the lake.

Marcus let out a whistle and looked at Snape, whose reddened eyes watched the wave subside in satisfaction.

"You're a natural, Snape," the incubus said, giving him a hearty pat on the back.

"All you need is the right motivation," Snape replied soberly, ready to try again.

He'd get the hang of this, and quickly.

* * *

Sister Dee had a rousing argument with St. Peter about accessing heaven. The bearded gate guardian sat at his tall podium, leafed through his book and told her there was no Remus Lupin in the Blessed Place.

"Maybe you spelled his name wrong," Dee suggested.

Peter looked affronted.

"We never make mistakes like that here," he sniffed, then scowled at her. "If he's one of your associates, I suggest you check the other place. That's probably where he is."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Dee snarled, holding her coat tightly closed with one hand. "If he's one of my associates? You trying to insult me, you goatheaded old . . ."

"LANGUAGE!" Peter roared, blowing her afro back.

"You want language . . . I'll give you language, you stuck up, geriatric . . . " Dee hissed, ready to just cuss him out.

Suddenly the cloudbank they were standing on lit up with a golden glow as an orb settled beside them. It coalesced into a very handsome, girded, blonde angel with beautiful, white wings and a body to die for . . . again. It wore a little white skirt trimmed in gold.

"What's going on out here?" it said in a rather girlish voice. "Some cloud matter just melted away inside. Lost a harp."

Dee stared at the angel. What was with its voice? She shook off her surprise.

"I'm trying to find Nymphodora Tonks. She's on a weeklong conjugal visit with her husband, Remus Lupin," the reaper informed him.

Both Peter and Gabriel looked horrified.

"Conjugal visits! Not here, Missy," the angel said, pointing to the left. "No one has any genitals in heaven. Who you're looking for must be in the Afterlife. Go that way about ten miles and you'll find it."

Dee blinked. No one had any sexual organs?

"And you folks have the nerve to call this place Heaven?" Dee asked incredulously before whirling and disappearing.

"Everyone's a critic," Peter grumbled from his high seat.

* * *

Dee arrived at an almost featureless area. It was all white and stretched as far as the eye could see. The only things present were a door, a desk, and a young woman sitting in a swivel chair with one foot propped up on it, chewing gum and filing her nails. Her black hair was spiked and wrapped with a black head scarf with little skulls printed all over it. She wore thick mascara and black lipstick. She had on ripped jeans, black sandals and a black t-shirt that had "Heaven Sucks" printed on it. She continued filing her nails to points as Dee stood there looking at her. The girl had to know she was there.

Finally, Dee cleared her throat. The young woman looked up at her.

"Yeah?" she said eloquently.

Well, this was a lot different than heaven already.

"Is this the Afterlife?" the reaper asked her.

The girl blew a small bubble, let it pop then said, "Yep," and went back to filing her nails.

"I need to find Nymphadora Tonks," Dee informed her.

The girl tossed her head toward the door.

"Go in there," she said shortly.

Dee looked at the door. The Afterlife had to be huge. How would she find Tonks?

"How . . ." she began.

"Just think about who you want to find and you'll be instantly drawn to them," the girl said in a droning voice that implied she'd given these directions a billion times.

The reaper walked toward the door, wondering about security. They just let anybody in here?

"If they don't belong here, they'll know it. The Afterlife isn't a party for everyone," the girl said, as Dee looked at her in amazement. Had she read her mind?

"There's a reason I'm out here, believe me," the girl said. "I'm Eris, the goddess of Discord. After the fall of the gods, I got this gig. Not very exciting, but the pay is decent."

Dee stared at her for a moment, then opened the door to the Afterlife and walked through, entering what seemed to be a heavy mist. It swirled around the reaper.

"I need to find Nymphadora Tonks," she said loudly.

Suddenly, there was a sickening pull and Dee found herself on a moonlit plain. She was standing in a field and there was a copse of trees a little way off. She could hear panting and howling and walked toward the sound.

After a minute or two, she saw two forms in front of a tree, as she got closer she murmured, "Oh, damn it."

There were two werewolves, mating. One was bent over clinging to the tree while the other was going at it hard, doggie-style, both of them howling and panting as his furry flanks poured it on.

Shit. That had to be Tonks and Remus. Well, she hated to interrupt them, but this was serious business. She walked closer, her nose wrinkling at the scent of wet dog and sex. Damn, werewolves went at it hard.

"Um, excuse me. Tonks?" Dee said loudly.

The werewolf clinging to the tree suddenly turned into a naked Tonks. Remus, however remained a werewolf and continued fucking, not registering the reaper in his lust.

"Now, that's just damn disturbing," Dee said, shaking her head as Tonks straightened and pushed the randy werewolf off of her. Remus snarled at her menacingly, and Tonks pointed toward Dee.

"Ah, we have company, Remus," she said to the slavering, creature, who was petting his very large, pink erection. The werewolf turned its head and stared at Dee, its ears going flat. Suddenly it turned into Remus, who was also naked. He quickly picked up his wand off the ground and created clothing. Tonks just fuzzed some in.

"What are you doing here, Dee?" Tonks asked walking up to her, Remus sheepishly following. His trousers were still tented.

"Sorry to break up the party, but there's some stuff going on that you ought to know about, Tonks. While you were gone, Severus Snape committed suicide," Dee told her.

Both Remus and Tonks looked shocked.

"Severus Snape? Why? He fought so hard to live," Remus said in disbelief.

"He killed himself out of grief. He was doing Hermione Granger and in love with her. But, she wasn't in love with him and led him on. She married Ronald Weasley and broke his heart. He felt he couldn't go on," the reaper said.

"Hermione did that? I can't believe it," Tonks said. "She was so sweet."

"Yeah, sweet like anti-freeze. She set him up. She meant for him to kill himself," Dee said, "and now he's taking Incubus lessons from Marcus 'the dog' Delaluci. He means to pay her back."

"Oh, no! We've got to stop him," Tonks said.

Dee shook her head.

"Oh, no, baby girl. You've got to stop him. I tried," the reaper said. "He's bone-headed. Won't listen to anything I have to say."

Tonks scowled at Dee.

"You have to help me because this happened on your watch," she told Dee, who put one hand on her hip, waggled a finger and did her "Oh, no you don't" head motion.

"I was covering for you," she argued.

"And that makes you at least partially responsible. Besides, Snape was a tough nut to crack when he was alive. I'm sure he hasn't changed a bit now that he's dead. I'm going to need the extra help. Come on, Dee. I need you. You've got to help me. If he's in Marcus' clutches, it's going to be hell prying him away."

Dee sighed and rolled her eyes. She and Tonks were friends. She couldn't abandon her in her time of need. Damn it.

"All right. I'll help you if I can, Tonks, but I ain't watching no more of you Brits. Not a one," she hissed. "Americans are crazy enough."

"Thanks, Dee," Tonks said appreciatively, then turned to Remus.

"I've got to go, baby. I'm sorry," she said, kissing him.

Remus looked at her longingly.

"Hopefully, the year will pass quickly," he said softly, drinking his wife in. Tonks smoothed the curve of his face with her hand.

"It will, love. And I'll try to have the days we missed tacked on to the next vacation, okay?"

Remus kissed the palm of her hand as the surroundings turned into gray mist.

"Yes," he said, kissing her once more. "Goodbye, Tonks."

"Bye, Remus," Tonks said as he faded away. Dee immediately noticed the door in front of them.

All business now, Tonks marched to the door.

"Let's go," she said, her eyes and voice hard.

Dee followed, shaking her head slightly as Tonks stalked out of the Afterlife. She had to be pissed about breaking off her yearly booty call early. Snape was probably in for some post-coital interruptus shit.

But damn . . . werewolves?

Man, white folks were just . . . freaky.

* * *

A/N: lololol. Just thought I'd revisit this story a bit. Fun chapter to write. Thanks for reading.


	6. Confrontation

**Chapter 6 ~ Confrontation**

Marcus and Snape were still by the lake when Tonks and Dee appeared. The Metamorphmagus walked up behind the pair quietly as Marcus was giving Snape some finer points.

"Now, Snape, this is very good for a start. You're a fast learner. You need to focus on making the water absolutely still now, turning it into ice. That is the first level of physical manifestation. Mortals can feel your presence through the cold. First—oof!"

Marcus landed in the lake face first with a splash as Tonks kicked him hard in the arse from behind. Snape looked shocked to see her.

"Take that you bastard," Tonks snarled at the spluttering incubus as he flipped over furiously. Dee grinned as he stood up, soaked through. Tonks walked up to Snape.

"Severus," she said softly. "Why did you do this? You fought so hard to live."

"I thought there was nothing left to live for when Hermione married Ronald Weasley," the wizard said coldly. "Then discovered it had all been a ruse on the witch's part. She meant to drive me to my death. She—she tricked me."

"Love can make fools of us all, Severus. Don't allow her treachery to endanger your immortal soul," the reaper told him. "If you become an incubus, you can never be reborn into a happier situation. You'll be trapped here for eternity and never advance to the highest level."

"I care nothing for advancement, Tonks! All I want is revenge on that little lying bitch," Snape snarled back at her.

"I told you," Dee said, sucking her teeth.

"But Severus, after you're done with Hermione, you'll be locked into punishing other women, women you don't even know," she said, her eyes wet.

"I might not know them personally, but I'm certain I'll know the type. They'll be just as deserving of punishment as Hermione."

Marcus was back on shore now and dried himself, scowling at Tonks, who scowled right back at him.

"You seduced him," she accused the blonde incubus.

Marcus gave her a nasty little smile that made Dee want to blast his arse right back into the lake.

"No. That little trick on earth did that," he replied. "Snape already had what it takes to become an incubus. He's a natural. Hatred, revenge, cruelty . . . it's all there. I'm simply trying to help him get it sorted out quickly. I'm a good Samaritan."

"You're a good for nothing!" Dee hissed at him.

Marcus gave her a sexy smile.

"Oh, I'm good for something, Dee. Believe me. You really should let me get at what's under that coat you keep wrapped so tightly around yourself."

Dee narrowed her eyes at him.

"Oh, you want some of this, Marcus?"

The incubus' violet eyes heated up and flicked to black as she loosened her belt.

"Oh yes, mama," he replied. "Show daddy the goods."

Both Snape and Tonks simple blinked as Dee finished undoing the belt to her trench coat.

"All right. You want to see it? Here it is," she said, throwing her coat open. Snape and Marcus stumbled back, Marcus nearly gagging at the glistening red skeleton beneath the coat.

"I'm a reaper you asshole," Dee said to him. "I only have flesh when I get my week. Haven't you seen any pictures of Death? Jesus."

She closed her coat and tied it again.

"Yeah, I've seen them, but those pictures always have a skeleton's head and hands as well. You know what's under the robes. You . . . you're . . . you're a bloody tease, that's what you are. False advertising," Marcus replied, his blue eyes resting on her coat as she fastened it back up.

"No, I'm a bloody skeleton, mostly. But, now that that's out of the way, hand Snape over, Marcus or things are going to get ugly," Dee snapped.

"I doubt it can be any uglier than what I just saw," the incubus hissed, then SPLASH!

He was right back in the water, Tonks frowning at him.  
"Don't insult my co-worker," she snarled, then turned her eyes back on Snape as Marcus stumbled out of the water, setting himself aflame then reappearing dry as a bone.

"Severus, don't make me take you forcibly," Tonks coaxed.

Definitely the wrong approach.

"I don't think you can take me," the dark wizard said softly, his fists clenching and unclenching at his side. "This is my choice. The afterlife is supposed to be a place of choices, isn't it?"

"Technically, no. Only in some cases," Tonks said slowly.

"Cases like mine," Snape replied as Marcus nodded, a smug look on his face.

Tonks sighed and looked at Dee for help. Dee shook her head helplessly.

Snape turned back toward the lake, focusing for several moments before passing his hand over the surface of the lake. A very thin crust of ice formed.

"He's a natural," Marcus said proudly.

"He's full of hatred, Marcus, hatred that you're fanning like a fucking flame," Dee hissed.

"A fucking flame. Ha, you made a funny. But you know the ability to be a spiritual punisher of unworthy women isn't just something everyone can do. It has to be in your spiritual makeup to begin with. Face it, Snape just has it," Marcus said as Snape thickened the ice slightly before it broke apart.

"You know what I hate, Marcus? I hate that it's you who decides who is worthy or unworthy. You go after women who are simply looking for love . . . "

"By cheating on their men!"

"Most of those men are uncaring brutes who use women for door mats. They drive them into the arms of other men . . ."

Dee was trembling. Marcus could tell this little argument was about more than Snape becoming an incubus. His violet eyes narrowed normally.

"Oh, so you were once a cheating bitch . . ."

"That's it! Bye, bye, Marcus!" Tonks yelled, snapping her fingers.

Marcus let out a howl as he turned into swirling smoke and disappeared, leaving an acrid, burning scent behind. Snape stopped practicing and whirled on Tonks.

"Where did you send him?" he demanded. "I need him!"

Dee was trembling slightly, clutching her coat around her, her eyes wet. The reaper was clearly disturbed and didn't get into the conversation.

"I just sent him away. He'll return, like bad food. I don't need him here influencing you when I'm trying to help you."

"Damn it, Tonks! I don't need your blasted help! All I want is my revenge! Now, leave me be!" Snape snarled, his eyes reddening frightfully. "I have to find Marcus!"

Suddenly, Snape disappeared, the smell of brimstone lingering behind.

"Oh, bloody hell. He transported. He's not supposed to be able to do that yet," Tonks complained, turning towards Dee, who was looking at the ground. "Are you all right, Dee?"

Dee blinked several times then looked up at her.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Tonks. That Marcus gets under my skin, or would if I had skin. It's all right."

Tonks studied her, then said, "If you say so. But now, we have another problem. We don't know where Snape and Marcus are. They're definitely together. Snape wanted him so was probably taken to him. That bastard has been around long enough to know how to cloak himself and could be in any dimension. We're going to have to go down to Earth—"

"Earth? Oh, come on, Tonks. Don't tell me we're going to have to protect Miss Baddy Two Shoes! That's not our job. We need to get some Watchers down there . . . "

"Watchers don't do anything but watch, Dee. We need to get Snape back on the right side of thinking or he's going to lose his immortal soul and become a demon," Tonks said.

Dee snorted.

"Seemed he was well on his way to being one even before he got here," she said witheringly.

"He wasn't the friendliest fellow, but he served the Good for the majority of his life with no reward. Here is where he should receive it, but now that Marcus has gotten his devilish mitts on him, he needs help. Severus deserves a chance, Dee. You have no idea what he's gone through. We can't abandon him."

"We aren't supposed to battle demons, Tonks," Dee replied, "we don't have that kind of dispensation. We could lose our powers."

"Who said anything about battling them? We just need to run a bit of interference, Dee. Come on, help me. I'll never ask you to do anything else as long as I live."

Dee arched an eyebrow at Tonks, who smirked.

"That promise isn't worth squat, Tonks. You're already dead."

Tonks shrugged.

"I know," she replied. "Still, I need your help, Dee."

Dee scowled at her, then let her shoulders slump.

"Fine. I'll help you then, but I can't help thinking that this Hermione chick really brought this on herself, Tonks. If she were to die today, I think she'd go straight to the Fryer. She practically murdered that man, and her body was the weapon."

Tonks sighed.

"I'm still finding that hard to believe, Dee. But let's go down and see what Hermione is up to. If she did cause Snape's death maybe she repentant about it. That has to count for something."

Dee remembered Hermione's callousness with her own husband.

"Somehow, I doubt that, Tonks."

* * *

A/N: Thought I'd try my hand at this story. My muse is still AWOL but I hope this isn't too bad. Thanks for reading.


End file.
